Page 149 of Ruled By The Alpha

“I am well, but you are mistaken, uncle. Justlinn Tomarrson lives.”

Although none of us are sure how he clings to life.

Korva’s smile dawns colder than a winter sunrise over the sea. “I say you are a widow. What say you, men, is my niece a widow?”

A chorus of “ayes” rise from behind him.

“And I have brought your new husband,” my uncle says, his grip on my shoulders tightening. “Let me introduce Breandan and Gottar Lokke.” He nods to two Alphas standing behind him, red of hair and silver of eye in the way of the Aslenne. “House Lokke has shown great foresight in this long war and now they rise high with the Korkarr. The Council at Birrada has granted Breandan the lands formerly held by the traitorous Tomarr, and to Gottar, the stewardship of your son.”

My uncle turns his coat? He supports the Korkarr? I always knew he was a snake, but I never thought him a traitor.

“I say again that I am not a widow,” I say levelly, as befits the Tuvarra. “But if I was, uncle, my hand would not be yours to give away—”

“It is done,” says Iasan from behind me, striding out of the Hall and into the courtyard. He throws a bloody dagger at my uncle’s feet. “Kieran of Tomarr is a widow. And as her closest kin here, I decide who takes her hand. I will agree to Breandan Lokke as her Alpha on the condition that I take stewardship of her son, and that if Breandan dies without a male heir, half of these lands come to me when Irenn Tomarrson grows into his fangs.”

I draw my sword and have it at his throat before he takes another breath.

“Traitor,” I growl. My Omega growl is weak in comparison to an Alpha rumble, but it resonates all the same. A promise of violence and strength. It is a foolish Alpha who underestimates an Omega protecting her own.

Iasan holds my gaze. He does not flinch or try to escape my sword.

Korva chuckles. “Kill your brother, niece, and your headless corpse will swing in a crow-cage before eventide. You’re already a murderess. The false king’s pardon holds no weight now. The Council at Birrada offers you this one chance. Handfast with Breandan Lokke and we will spare you, your son, your brother. Otherwise, I am within my rights to put all to the sword.” His thin lips twist into a sneer. “A greatnestof traitors and rebels, these lands harbor.”

I keep my eyes on Iasan as I answer my uncle. “The people of these lands are entirely innocent. Their deaths will be on your soul when you meet the Mother.”

Korvatsks. “Coming from a whore who wears the Mother’s curse on her face for all to see, your words have little weight.”

“Lady Kieran,” one of the men behind my uncle says, likely one of the Lokke brothers. “Don’t waste your life and that of your Alphason. These people need you. Your son will inherit. I’ll take nothing from you, Lady. I offer you only protection.”

I want to snarl that I don’t need his protection. But that’s a lie. I’m surrounded by enemies. My Alpha has not come for me. He’s done just what he feared: sired a child and left me alone to protect our Alphason. And so many other fragile lives lie in the shadow of my sword. Rivvard. Donag. All those in hai and port and mine and farm who I’ve come to know, who I’ve worked beside, who I swore to protect.

Fleeing to my father—if I can escape this day—will only bring my doom to the rest of my family. Despite my brother’s betrayal, as long as I live, as long as Irenn lives, House Tomarr lives and the people of the Tomarrhai will be what my despicable uncle called them: a nest of traitors and rebels. The Lokke will hound us both until we’re dead and they can mount our heads on pikes as a symbol of their victory.

“Safety for me and all I claim as my people,” I say, still holding Iasan’s eyes, but speaking to the Lokke.

A deeper voice replies. “Safety for you and your kinsmen.”

Whoever he is, he clearly takes me for a fool.

“Safety for me and all I claim as my people,” I repeat.

“You don’t dictate—” the deeper voice growls.

“Gottar, give her this,” Breandan says. “She’s lost enough today.”

Gottar spits loudly, but says no more.

“Agreed, Lady Kieran,” Breandan says.

Korva grumbles. “Young fool. Omegas are to beruled, not indulged.”

Once, I might have said the same. Even then, I believed Omegas should be cherished, ruled benevolently. Much has changed since then. I know now, an Omega’s true strength. I know it does not lie with a strong Alpha, but within her own heart.

And I know I will have to rely on that strength in the days to come, because I have no one else to rely on. Once again, I am an Omega at war.

I lower my sword. With a nod to my brother, I sheathe it. He reaches a shaking hand to me, but I step back and shake my head.

“Take off your sword, woman,” the deep voice growls. “It’s unseemly for an Omega to be armed.”

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